By Conrado de Quiros, PDI's There's the Rub 4/5/07
MANILA, Philippines -- SONIA Roco has a story for these holiest of days. She was one of the survivors of the killer earthquake that struck Baguio in July 1990. She was at the Nevada Hotel attending an NGO conference sponsored by USAID. She tells her ordeal thus:
“We were having merienda. I wanted some tea and started off to the end of the long table where it was. Suddenly things began to rock violently. I was a little shaken, but told myself this was normal. This was Baguio. My first instinct was to retrieve my bag which I had left in my chair. Then the chandelier fell. I felt myself hurled down by a terrible force. While hurtling to the floor, I caught sight of something. It just took a second or two, but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I saw two legs jutting out from what seemed like solid rock. It was almost comical because the legs were flapping.
“It was the last thing I saw that day. The next instant, it was dark. Completely, absolutely, utterly dark.
“Then shouting, shrill screams. Things were thudding around us. I could see nothing, not even fuzzy outlines. I closed my eyes and opened them. Same thing. I began touching things furiously, like a blind person.
“I made a mental picture of the room. The table had fallen on its side, its legs sticking out. I was lying inside it. There was a guy behind my head. His breath came in spasms, and then he groaned. I felt his slippers push into my head and then his feet went limp. He stopped moving.
“I was lying on my back. I stretched my legs upward to see how far they would go. I touched solid matter with them still bent.
“I began shouting, ‘Peach! Peach!’ (Peachie Roco, married to Raul’s brother Cho.) I heard a voice shouting back not far from me, ‘Son! Son!’ People were screaming and groaning, some in pain, most in fear.
“I asked Peachie if she was OK. She said she was hunched over a table and her feet were wedged into something. She couldn’t move. I had no idea how that looked. But I knew she was in pain.
“Then it struck me: I’m going to die.
“The tremors did not stop. They kept coming from all sides, up and down, side to side. You could feel every ripple and half-expected everything to just fall down. Each time it happened, I clung to the legs of the table.
“I began praying: ‘Lord, my life is in your hands. You created me, You can take me back any time you want to.’
“The next moment, I became very practical. I started an inventory of things still just by touch. Paper, vase, an electric fan that had toppled over. I said to the girl beside me, ‘Mia, let’s pee into this vase, maybe the rescue will take time. We might end up peeing all over the place. She said yes.
“We all knew the time because someone had a penlight and would flash it on his watch now and then and call out the time. At about 4 o’clock in the morning, I heard Peachie groaning. She whispered, ‘Son, I can’t take it anymore. My legs are numb. I’m so tired.’ Those were her last words.
“The hours crawled by. Slowly, I resigned myself to my fate. I began muttering: ‘Mother Nature, this is our fault, we have abused you for so long. (I had been to Baguio many times and seen the mines there.) You have a right to be angry. For years, we stabbed you in the womb. Now, we know what it feels to be inside it, to see the damage we have done.’ I didn’t know if it made any sense. I didn’t care.
“Intermittently, things would shake violently and then stop. It had been a day and half since the earthquake struck and I hadn’t slept all that time. I was getting thirsty and hungry. The muscles on my face were twitching and my lips were dry. It was getting very hard to swallow. And the room now stank of urine and feces.
“I felt very, very tired. I surrendered myself to my Creator. I didn’t know if it was just fatigue, but I began to feel peace. I felt myself floating. I didn’t know whether I was asleep or awake. It was in that state that I heard the clicking sounds.
“It started faintly. I thought I was imagining it. Or dreaming it. But it got louder and became clearer. It was the sound of metal hitting concrete. It was coming from below us. They had gotten to us! They were hammering underneath us!
“We realized it almost at the same time. We chorused, ‘We’re here! We’re alive! We’re alive!’
“Unbelievably, the first hole they bore was nearest me, at my foot. As soon as the hole was big enough, someone shouted, ‘Who’s there? Who can hear us?’ I shouted back, ‘Sonia! Sonia Roco!’
“I had no idea how I looked. They would tell me later that I looked like I had just come from a war. The stench behind me, where I had come from, was overpowering. They were all wearing masks over their mouths, but I noticed that only at back of my mind. I was sobbing and sniffing and trembling.
“I heard Raul’s voice before I saw him. I turned on him resentfully and said, ‘Why just now? Why did you take so long?’
“Raul said apologetically, ‘May kahirapan (It was a little hard).’ It was the understatement of his life.
“‘Salvation’ is a word you hear all the time. I heard it a lot when I was studying catechism. And I said it a lot when I was teaching catechism. But like the words of a prayer, I had never really stopped to wonder what it meant.
“Looking back, I never knew the people who came to pluck me out of the darkness. None of them had to do it. Most of them had families, too. But they took the risk—the structure was fragile. It could have collapsed and buried them along with us. Probably more lethally because they were under us. But they did what they did, and because of that, I am still alive.
“It’s enough to restore your faith in God and people. It’s enough to give you a deep sense of mission in life. It’s enough to make you see the beauty and wonder of life.
“That is salvation.”
MANILA, Philippines -- SONIA Roco has a story for these holiest of days. She was one of the survivors of the killer earthquake that struck Baguio in July 1990. She was at the Nevada Hotel attending an NGO conference sponsored by USAID. She tells her ordeal thus:
“We were having merienda. I wanted some tea and started off to the end of the long table where it was. Suddenly things began to rock violently. I was a little shaken, but told myself this was normal. This was Baguio. My first instinct was to retrieve my bag which I had left in my chair. Then the chandelier fell. I felt myself hurled down by a terrible force. While hurtling to the floor, I caught sight of something. It just took a second or two, but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. I saw two legs jutting out from what seemed like solid rock. It was almost comical because the legs were flapping.
“It was the last thing I saw that day. The next instant, it was dark. Completely, absolutely, utterly dark.
“Then shouting, shrill screams. Things were thudding around us. I could see nothing, not even fuzzy outlines. I closed my eyes and opened them. Same thing. I began touching things furiously, like a blind person.
“I made a mental picture of the room. The table had fallen on its side, its legs sticking out. I was lying inside it. There was a guy behind my head. His breath came in spasms, and then he groaned. I felt his slippers push into my head and then his feet went limp. He stopped moving.
“I was lying on my back. I stretched my legs upward to see how far they would go. I touched solid matter with them still bent.
“I began shouting, ‘Peach! Peach!’ (Peachie Roco, married to Raul’s brother Cho.) I heard a voice shouting back not far from me, ‘Son! Son!’ People were screaming and groaning, some in pain, most in fear.
“I asked Peachie if she was OK. She said she was hunched over a table and her feet were wedged into something. She couldn’t move. I had no idea how that looked. But I knew she was in pain.
“Then it struck me: I’m going to die.
“The tremors did not stop. They kept coming from all sides, up and down, side to side. You could feel every ripple and half-expected everything to just fall down. Each time it happened, I clung to the legs of the table.
“I began praying: ‘Lord, my life is in your hands. You created me, You can take me back any time you want to.’
“The next moment, I became very practical. I started an inventory of things still just by touch. Paper, vase, an electric fan that had toppled over. I said to the girl beside me, ‘Mia, let’s pee into this vase, maybe the rescue will take time. We might end up peeing all over the place. She said yes.
“We all knew the time because someone had a penlight and would flash it on his watch now and then and call out the time. At about 4 o’clock in the morning, I heard Peachie groaning. She whispered, ‘Son, I can’t take it anymore. My legs are numb. I’m so tired.’ Those were her last words.
“The hours crawled by. Slowly, I resigned myself to my fate. I began muttering: ‘Mother Nature, this is our fault, we have abused you for so long. (I had been to Baguio many times and seen the mines there.) You have a right to be angry. For years, we stabbed you in the womb. Now, we know what it feels to be inside it, to see the damage we have done.’ I didn’t know if it made any sense. I didn’t care.
“Intermittently, things would shake violently and then stop. It had been a day and half since the earthquake struck and I hadn’t slept all that time. I was getting thirsty and hungry. The muscles on my face were twitching and my lips were dry. It was getting very hard to swallow. And the room now stank of urine and feces.
“I felt very, very tired. I surrendered myself to my Creator. I didn’t know if it was just fatigue, but I began to feel peace. I felt myself floating. I didn’t know whether I was asleep or awake. It was in that state that I heard the clicking sounds.
“It started faintly. I thought I was imagining it. Or dreaming it. But it got louder and became clearer. It was the sound of metal hitting concrete. It was coming from below us. They had gotten to us! They were hammering underneath us!
“We realized it almost at the same time. We chorused, ‘We’re here! We’re alive! We’re alive!’
“Unbelievably, the first hole they bore was nearest me, at my foot. As soon as the hole was big enough, someone shouted, ‘Who’s there? Who can hear us?’ I shouted back, ‘Sonia! Sonia Roco!’
“I had no idea how I looked. They would tell me later that I looked like I had just come from a war. The stench behind me, where I had come from, was overpowering. They were all wearing masks over their mouths, but I noticed that only at back of my mind. I was sobbing and sniffing and trembling.
“I heard Raul’s voice before I saw him. I turned on him resentfully and said, ‘Why just now? Why did you take so long?’
“Raul said apologetically, ‘May kahirapan (It was a little hard).’ It was the understatement of his life.
“‘Salvation’ is a word you hear all the time. I heard it a lot when I was studying catechism. And I said it a lot when I was teaching catechism. But like the words of a prayer, I had never really stopped to wonder what it meant.
“Looking back, I never knew the people who came to pluck me out of the darkness. None of them had to do it. Most of them had families, too. But they took the risk—the structure was fragile. It could have collapsed and buried them along with us. Probably more lethally because they were under us. But they did what they did, and because of that, I am still alive.
“It’s enough to restore your faith in God and people. It’s enough to give you a deep sense of mission in life. It’s enough to make you see the beauty and wonder of life.
“That is salvation.”
